


To the Rescue

by mystiri1



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Community: areyougame, Dragons, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-15
Updated: 2010-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cid's not the knightly sort, so why is he riding off to rescue a princess?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Rescue

The problem with great ideas you came up with when you were drunk, Cid thought grimly, was that sooner or later, you sobered up.

To be honest, he couldn't take credit for this particular idea. Somebody else had suggested it. But he'd been drunk enough to agree. Hell, he'd been drunk enough to share the stories that led to the idea in the first place.

He'd just arrived in port that day, and was looking to kick back and relax. It seemed harmless enough, reminiscing about the good old days over a few drinks. Not that anybody else there remembered the good old days that Cid was talking about, of course. A lot of those present couldn't understand a word Cid said, anyway. He didn't speak Wutai, and many of the Wutaians Cid met seemed to take great pleasure in not speaking Standard. But there was this one guy, dressed kind of fancy, who had no trouble understanding. Cid caught him translating for some of his fellow drinkers a couple of times.

Cid figured it was his fault. If only he could remember the bastard's name.

But he'd been talking about the good old days: travelling the world, fighting monsters, taking on heroic quests – for a sufficiently heroic sum, anyway. Then one of the men in the bar made a loud comment, and he didn't need to comprehend the words to understand the jeering tones: the other man was suggesting he'd made it all up, or something equally derogatory.

Things would have devolved into a brawl except for the silver tongue of Cid's well-dressed drinking companion, who soothed Cid's temper with yet another bottle of alcohol. It wasn't bad, either. It could sneak up on him if he drank it in those dinky little saucer-things the locals preferred, but that was why Cid preferred to drink it by the bottle, instead. Nobody sneaked up on Cid Highwind.

No, Cid was quite capable of walking into things with eyes wide open when he was drunk.

There was some continued debate over whether or not the exploits Cid related had really happened, but for the most part, Cid ignored them. Because his well-dressed friend was telling a tale now, complete with fancy language, and it was a good one.

The Emperor betrothed his daughter to some rich and important lord, and the Imperial Princess – clearly a bit too devout, in Cid's opinion; the guy was probably better off without her – insisted on making a pilgrimage to an ancient shrine to meditate on her upcoming nuptials. So she made the journey to the oldest shrine in the whole island country, but she never came back. When the Imperial Guardsmen went looking for her, they found instead a great dragon inhabiting the shrine, and despite several brave attempts, no one had managed to retrieve the princess.

Cid snorted. “Probably dragon chow.”

“But you see what a great tragedy it is, that a beautiful young princess should be snatched away from her intended by such a terrible monster, only days before her wedding is to take place,” Fancy-robes insisted.

“Tragic,” Cid agreed.

“Then you'll do it!” Fancy-robes jumped to his feet and yelled something, and the bar went wild.

Somehow, Cid had agreed to rescue the princess.

“Do I look like a bloody knight to you?” he asked the chocobo someone had helpfully provided him with.

“Wark!”

“Exactly. Dragons are something knights are supposed to handle, not broken-down ex-mercs. I won't even put a scratch on him. He'll probably use my spear as a toothpick.” This got a sympathetic warble in response.

Of course, this didn't explain why he was still headed towards the shrine in question. The smart thing to do would have been to ditch the chocobo, head back to his ship and leave port in a hurry. Instead, here he was, halfway up a mountain in the middle of nowhere, on his way to fight a dragon.

Senility, Cid decided. As he could no longer blame it on drunkenness, it must be senility setting in. Early senility, because it wasn't like he was old or anything. Besides, he told himself, he didn't have to fight the dragon when he got there. Having a good look couldn't hurt, though.

The entrance to the shrine came into view, one of those big gates that people seemed to like so much here. The red paint was faded and peeling, and through the pillars, Cid could see steps. A lot of steps. It made him wonder why they put the gate all the way down here, when clearly everything that mattered was much further up. It also made him grateful for the chocobo, who trotted up them with ease.

A huge statue came into view at the top: a giant water serpent. It looked vaguely dragon-ish, but there was no chance the Imperial Guards had mistaken the statue for their ferocious princess-stealing monster. Cid had been to Wutai often enough to recognise it as Leviathan, the water god. That was another good question: why, on an island surrounded by water, would you put the temple of the water god on top of the tallest mountain there was?

It might have had something to do with the temple itself. Carved into the side of the mountain, the entrance alone was four times his height. Cid didn't know much about architecture, but it looked pretty impressive. He dismounted and looked at the chocobo.

"You gonna stay put?"

It warked cheerfully.

"Yeah, I figured." But he didn't tie it up, just in case he really did get eaten by a dragon. At least that way, maybe the bird would get away, rather than becoming the second course.

Cid stared at the entrance for a few moments longer, hefted his spear with a shrug, and strode on in.

There was a dragon inside.

"Whoa." At long last, survival instincts kicked in, and Cid wondered what the hell he was doing here, as he braced his spear before him. After a few long, tense minutes, he started to feel kind of silly, because the dragon hadn't moved. The dragon hadn't, in fact, even woken up. The sound of its breathing, deep and even, filled the cavernous room.

A small voice suggested that if it didn't wake up, it might be a hell of a lot easier to kill. He ignored it in favouring of taking a good look at the beast in front of him.

It was done in shades of black, ranging from deep charcoal on its head to more midnight shades along its body, and the sharp, glossy obsidian of its horns and claws. Its wings were a deep, blood red, matching the spines along its back and the webbed end of its tail, which made Cid think more of fish than things that flew. Maybe it helped it to steer. Looking at the size of it - at least twice his height, and about four times that in length - it didn't make much sense that the creature could fly, anyway.

He walked around it, trying to take in every detail, and to his surprise, one eye popped open. It made him jump, but the rhythm of its breathing never changed. A blood-red orb tracked him lazily as he circled around, then closed again. Cid realised it was still asleep.

"Damn," he breathed in astonishment. "That's... creepy. Really creepy." He caught himself - talking might wake it up - but it didn't stir.

"Guess I might as well have a look for this princess," he said with a shrug, and set out to explore the rest of the shrine.

In one of the smaller rooms in that back, he found a pile of expensive-looking silk. It was torn up, as though somebody had taken a knife to it. He didn't think the dragon was the culprit; it would have trouble even getting here, as the passageway wasn't exactly dragon-sized, and it would never fit through the door. It was the only sign of the princess he found.

Wandering back to the main room, Cid dug around in his pack. He was getting low on cigars; depending on what cargo Shera had bought for them, maybe they'd sail to Costa del Sol next so he could get some more. Costan cigars were by far the best.

He sat on a plinth that had once held a statue, and lit up.

"Do you mind?" The words were a low rumble, felt almost as much as heard. The dragon raised its head, glaring at him with red eyes.

"Not at all," Cid returned, swallowing his shock as he bit down on the end of his cigar, clutching it between his teeth. Shera was always telling him off for smoking inside, and he paid little attention to it. The woman was happier when she had something to scold him for, and Cid liked a good argument.

Of course, arguing with a dragon was probably just a bit more dangerous than ticking Shera off. Unless the woman had her fry-pan, anyway.

"Look," he pointed out helpfully as a tendril of smoke rose from the dragon's nostrils, "you're doing it, too."

The dragon scowled. "I was trying to sleep," it grumbled.

"And I'm just trying to have a cigar," Cid said pedantically. "Don't let me stop you."

The dragon snorted, which sent a greater puff of smoke rising towards the ceiling.

"Heh, can you do smoke rings?" He pursed his lips and demonstrated.

The dragon gave him a flat stare, and said nothing. Instead, it settled its head back on its foreclaws and rather pointedly closed its eyes.

"Don't suppose you've seen a princess anywhere around here?"

"The noisy girl?" the dragon asked. "She took some items from the storage rooms at the back, and left."

"Figures," Cid mumbled. She probably hadn't thought much about her father's marriage plans. He wondered what the Wutaians would say if he told them their precious princess had looted the temple and done a runner. He'd definitely have to be very careful what he said when he returned to the port.

The light that fell through the entrance was slanted; Cid judged it was getting on towards late afternoon. It had taken him most of the day to get here. "It's late, so I guess I'm going to stay the night."

The dragon's head shot up. "No!"

"That's not very hospitable, is it?" Cid scolded. "This place is a temple. It's supposed to shelter travellers, and all that pious shit."

"This is my temple, and I want you to go away."

"This is Leviathan's temple -"

"He's not using it."

"- and if you can stay here, so can I."

Another irritated huff, but this time, it came with a small burst of flame, which gave Cid a few doubts about the wisdom of arguing with the beast; but damned if he was going to travel all the way back in the dark. And there was no reason for him to be sleeping outside when there was a perfectly good shelter available.

Although maybe he should take one of the back rooms.

Nah, he decided, he'd stay right here, with the dragon who was once again ignoring him by pretending to sleep; the breathing wasn't quite as even as before, giving it away. Cid grinned. Drunken idea or not, this was the most fun he'd had in ages.

Now he just needed to not get barbecued in his sleep.

* * * * *

He went out to check on the chocobo, happily wandering the temple courtyard, and looked speculatively at the treeline. There had to be something edible in there. It took nearly an hour, but Cid came back with a feeling of accomplishment, and something that had looked like a Zuu's smaller cousin before butchering. It had been twice as aggressive, too.

He left his kill just inside the temple door. The dragon never stirred, although Cid was sure it still wasn't actually sleeping. His suspicions were confirmed when he came back to see the dragon staring at the carcass, one lip curled in disdain.

Cid put the brazier down on the ground, along with the charcoal he'd found. There was still quite a bit in the back rooms, which made him wonder just why this place had been abandoned, and if the residents had done so in a hurry. "I'm making dinner," he announced.

"I'm not hungry."

"More for me, then," Cid said cheerfully. To be honest, he was relieved, because the whole bird wouldn't be much more than a mouthful for a creature the size of the dragon. And if it wasn't hungry, then presumably it also wasn't interested in eating Cid.

Not it, he decided, he. Cid wasn't going to check, as that seemed way too personal for him, but the voice sounded male. And he really should find something better to call it.

"You have a name?"

There was a long silence.

"Guess I'll just have to think of one, then. Grumpy. Growly. Smoky? Heh, that'd fit-"

"Vincent."

"Nah, that's a silly name for a... Wait, that's your name?"

"Yes. Vincent Valentine."

Cid blinked. "Still doesn't sound right for a dragon. Needs more 'grrr' to it, you know? It should be something snarly and dangerous."

"Like Grumpy?" Vincent sounded offended.

"Well, it does fit. But that was just me being sarcastic."

"I never would have guessed." The prissy tones dripped with sarcasm of their own.

Cid decided to concentrate on cooking his bird, turning it so it didn't burn.

After a long while, the dragon made a small, snorting sound. "My father's name was Grimoire."

Cid grinned. "Now that sounds like a proper dragon name."

"He wasn't."

"Wasn't what?"

"A dragon."

"What was he, then? An under lizard?"

"Human."

Despite himself, Cid looked from his own small form, to the dragon, and back. How the hell was that supposed to work? Immediately he wished he hadn't wondered, because now he felt like he needed to scrub his brain clean. Some pictures you just didn't need in your head.

He thought that Vincent looked a little smug at his consternation. Unfortunately, the question just wouldn't leave him alone until he couldn't resist any longer. "If you're a dragon, how can you have a human father?" he burst out.

He was right. Vincent's mouth curled up just a little at the corners - the dragon was smiling. But he didn't answer.

After a few minutes, Cid accepted that he wasn't going to. "Annoying overgrown lizard," he muttered under his breath.

He decided the bird was ready, and took it off the stick he'd been using as a makeshift spit, cursing as he burned his fingers in the process. The outside was a little charred, but the meat inside tasted just fine. Cid picked away at it happily. It was always nice, when he was on land, to get away from salted meats or fish, and it had been a long time since he'd last gone hunting for his own meal. It made him think he'd been taking things too easy lately. It was probably just as well that Vincent seemed uninterested in fighting him, because not only would he lose, it was likely he wouldn't even manage to put up a decent showing. He'd have to spend more time training, and the thought of Shera's opinion on the matter made him grin. She'd have plenty to say about idiot macho men who risked stabbing themselves in the foot by playing with weapons on a moving ship.

A loud rumble filled the cave. Cid paused with a mouthful of drumstick, and looked at the dragon in incredulity. "Was that your..."

Vincent looked away, embarrassed.

"I thought you said you weren't hungry!"

"It's been awhile since I last ate."

"How long?" Cid edged back a little.

Vincent cocked his head in thought. "Hmm... what year is it?"

Cid spluttered. "You haven't eaten in years!?"

"I was sleeping!" the dragon said defensively.

Cid sighed, and held out the remaining bird. "Here."

"That was your dinner."

"I was just about finished anyway. And I prefer it to you eating me."

"I don't eat people." Vincent wrinkled his nose - an interesting expression on a dragon, as it also bared some very long, white teeth. "You'd probably taste like those awful cigars, anyway."

"Just take the damned bird," Cid gritted out.

Vincent leaned forward and a long, forked tongue flicked out, wrapping around the carcass with surprising dexterity and rasping across Cid's hand in the process. It tickled. The bird disappeared into the dragon's mouth, and with a quick crunch, it was gone.

"You're sure you don't eat people?"

"Yes." A red glare suggested rather pointedly that Cid should stop suggesting otherwise.

"Glad to hear it." Cid fumbled around in his pack for a cigar, but as he was down to his last three he didn't light it, just tucked it between his teeth. He chewed the end a little, then removed it to ask, "So what do you do for entertainment around here?"

The dragon gave him a bland look. "I sleep."

  


* * * * *

  


Cid still wasn't quite sure what to say about the missing princess when he returned to the port, so he headed straight for the docks. The pier where the Highwind was docked was a hive of activity; he could see Shera at the centre of it all, calling out orders and directing cargo.

"Shera. Looks like you've got things under control here."

Shera gave him a flat stare. "I had to. Our captain was busy rescuing a princess."

Cid laughed weakly. "So you know about that."

"That you got drunk and hared off to fight dragons? Yes. I sent one of the men to see if they could find you when you didn't return to the ship."

"Just one dragon, and it was very impressive. Didn't fight him, though."

"Maybe there's some hope for you yet. And the princess?"

"Didn't need rescuing. She took herself off."

"Smart girl. Good on her." Shera wasn't much on traditional female roles. "I've got us a full cargo. Should be another day to load it all. I've told the crew on shore leave to report the day after tomorrow."

"Heh. Guess I'll find something to occupy myself until then."

"What are you planning?"

Cid grinned. "Oh, nothing much."

  


* * * * *

  


"Hey, Vincent!" Cid yelled in greeting as he entered the shrine.

The dragon looked dismayed. "You're back?"

"Yep! And I brought a few things this time."

Vincent failed to look impressed as Cid put several large packs down.

"That's for later, though. Thought I'd catch us some dinner first."

"Us?"

"Something a bit bigger than last time." Cid grinned, and hefted his spear. Vincent followed him as far as the courtyard.

"You really don't have to -"

"It's the least I can do in return for your hospitality." Cid didn't have to look around to know that the snort behind him had sent another puff of smoke skyward.

  


* * * * *

  


"Might need to build a fire-pit. I don't think the brazier's going to be enough for this," Cid declared, looking at the corpse in front of him.

"You don't need to go to all that trouble." Vincent, for all his assumed disinterest, was eyeing the freshly killed foulander rather intently.

"It's no bother."

"No, I mean you really don't have to go to the trouble of cooking it for my sake." He looked away. "I, uh, prefer mine raw."

"Oh. Heh." Cid rubbed a hand over his head. "Well, I'm not all that great a cook, anyway."

"I'd noticed."

"Hey, you! That's not very grateful, is it?"

"Thank you, Cid."

"Just wait until you see what I've got for after dinner."

  


* * * * *

  


Vincent watched in astonishment as Cid produced several big jugs of alcohol from his packs, followed by a large pottery dish. It had likely been intended by its creator as a serving platter of some sort, but it seemed it would be put to another use tonight.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Figured it's as good a way to get you talking as any."

"Hn." The dragon watched Cid pour a large amount of the clear liquid into the bowl. "It would probably take a lot."

"I brought plenty."

"I'm not sure that I can get drunk."

"You can do anything if you really try." Cid tipped some into a small saucer of his own.

"I am sure that most people are not referring to the consumption of massive amounts of alcohol when they say that."

"They're just not thinking big enough, then." Cid knocked his back, then looked expectantly at Vincent.

Vincent clutched the dish rather awkwardly in his foreclaws. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Cid said firmly, ignoring the fact that he really had no way to make the dragon do anything he didn't want to. "We both drink, I tell you stories, then sooner or later - after enough alcohol - you loosen up and start telling your own stories."

Vincent sighed, and drank. Then he coughed, a large fireball erupting from his throat, making Cid scramble backwards in a hurry. Perhaps giving alcohol to someone who breathed fire was a bad idea.

Vincent eyed the bowl, still half-full of clear, potentially-intoxicating and highly-flammable liquid. He looked at the remaining jugs, all of them as yet unopened. He sighed again. "It's a curse, alright?"

"What is?" Cid asked, confused by the sudden change of topic.

"I wasn't born a dragon. I was cursed. Can I stop drinking now?"

"If you want to. How'd you get cursed?"

"I annoyed a sorcerer." Vincent placed the bowl down gratefully.

Cid gave him a look that said just how much that answer wasn't cutting it.

"There was a woman involved. His wife."

"Was she beautiful?"

"Yes."

The shortness of the answer didn't succeed in deterring Cid. "What happened?"

"She died." The words were harsh, bitten off.

Cid decided it was time to change the subject.

"So let me tell you about how I got my ship..."

  


* * * * *

  


Morning came, and Cid woke with a groan. Sleeping on the ground - or even temple floors - had been much easier when he was younger. He hadn't drunk enough for a hangover, but his mouth still felt like something had crawled in and died there. He stumbled out to the well in the courtyard to get a drink of water.

"Vin? You awake?"

"It's Vincent," the dragon grumbled, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "And keep it down. I have a hangover."

Cid grinned. Despite his initial objections, Vincent did have more to drink as the evening wore on. Still, when he figured the size of the dragon against the volume of alcohol, it seemed that Vincent was a lightweight.

He said as much.

Vincent opened one eye to glare. "I have a hangover, and I'm strongly reconsidering my policy on eating people."

"Now, that's just mean," Cid muttered, but he did so very quietly.

  


* * * * *

  


It was mid-afternoon before Cid left, promising to return the next time he docked in Wutai.

"I'm sure I'll look forward to having my sleep interrupted again," Vincent said flatly, but Cid just grinned. He knew the dragon liked him. He just grew on people that way. And he still wanted to know the full story of that curse. It was tempting to stay another night and see if he couldn't get it out of him, but then he risked missing the morning tide, and Shera would have words for him then, none of which would be complimentary.

Being back on board the Highwind was good, though. The ship was his home, more so than the little house and office he and Shera kept between them at their registered home port. It felt good to be back in his own bunk, and feel the rise and fall of the sea beneath him. He wondered, as he lay there waiting for sleep, if Vincent had anywhere he considered home. The shrine, perhaps? Or some place he'd left behind?

He wondered what Vincent had looked like as a human.

When Cid finally fell asleep that night, he dreamed of sorcerers, beautiful women, and dragons.

  


* * * * *

  


Preparations for casting off kept Cid too busy to think until a finely-dressed Wutaian official appeared at the bottom of the gangway, trailing several guards. They weren't in the uniforms of Imperial Guardsmen, but the livery was fairly impressive all the same. The sailor who was keeping watch there objected, but the man swept past, and his well-armed companions made arguing unwise.

He strode towards the command deck as if he had every right to be there.

"Captain Highwind."

Cid turned and casually leaned against the nearest object, which just happened to be a harpoon gun. "Sorry, if I caught your name the other night, I don't remember it."

"I am Lord Yatzhen." He looked at Cid disdainfully. "I came to enquire as to what you found at the shrine."

"One bloody big dragon?"

"Did you kill it?"

"Nah. Might have annoyed him a little, though." Cid grinned, deciding he really didn't like this guy at all now he was sober. "He didn't seem to like being woken up."

"And what of my fian- the princess?"

His fiancee? Cid's eyebrow's shot up. If this was the man engaged to the princess, that shed a whole new light on the situation. "She wasn't there. If you're engaged to the princess, shouldn't you be the one charging off to rescue her from the dragon?"

Yatzhen sniffed. "Don't be ridiculous. I am the head of the third most powerful Clan in all of Wutai. Why would I sully myself with such menial tasks? That is what hirelings are for."

"Only the third?" Cid's question made the man's eye twitch. "And I don't recall you paying me. Guess that's why I didn't kill the dragon."

"I should have known better than to rely on the courage of an uncultured foreigner," Yatzhen said with a sniff. "I shall arrange for a company of Wutaian soldiers to avenge our princess's death at the hands of a dreadful beast. They, at least, will not hesitate to die honourably if it is called for."

"I didn't say your princess was dead," Cid said sharply, not liking where this was headed. Yatzhen was going to send an entire company after Vincent? It wasn't as if the dragon had done anything but squat in an unoccupied temple. "Vin- The dragon said that she took some things, and left."

Yatzhen's eyes narrowed, and he made an abrupt gesture that had his guards drawing their swords. "You will take care not to repeat such a slander, Captain Highwind, or I shall be forced to take action against you. Suggesting that the Imperial Princess of Wutai ran away from our marriage is a grave insult to my clan, and to the Imperial Throne." The words were laden with threat. "As for the dragon, everybody knows dumb beasts cannot speak. I shall ensure it does not do so again."

"You shall get off my ship right now, you pompous ass," Cid retorted. "And take a good look around you before you go making any more threats towards me or my crew." His own spear was still down in his cabin, but the rest of the crew had surreptitiously armed themselves, and were now making their presence obvious. While only a few were on the command deck with them, the steps leading up to it were surrounded, and, Cid noted with approval, six men were watching the gangway for signs of anyone else approaching.

Yatzhen drew himself up stiffly. "I shall not forget this, Captain. I suggest you do not return to Wutai again, as you will find yourself quite unwelcome."

"What a sacrifice," Cid said sarcastically. "Now if you don't mind, we're trying to cast off so we can leave this pathetic little country of yours."

Yatzhen's lips tightened, and he barked several quick commands to his men. This resulted in Cid's crew becoming even more belligerent, at least until it became obvious that the orders were to withdraw. With much glaring, they parted to let the Lord and his entourage through. The moment the last of them stepped foot on the pier, the gangway was pulled up.

"All crew are aboard, Captain," Shera reported. "The tide turns in ten minutes."

"We're not waiting." Cid raised his voice. "Hoist the sails! Cast off!" He turned to his first mate. "Shera, you take the wheel. Set a course that will take us close to the fishing village on the point. I need to get off as we go past."

"But Captain-"

"There's something I need to do. You have command until I get back." With that, Cid hurried below deck.

  


* * * * *

  


It was a dangerous move, passing close enough to the rocky point that Cid could swing across, and they managed it only because of the high tide. He landed a little awkwardly, brushed himself off, and grabbed the nearest villager.

"Anybody here got a chocobo?"

He ended up having to buy the bird - and paying double what it was worth, at that - but he had to admit there was no way for him to guarantee the owner would get it back again. Then it was off to the shrine at a much faster pace than his previous trips, and hoping he didn't get lost along the way.

"Hey!" he yelled when he got there. "Hey, Vincent!"

"You're back again?" the dragon asked, astonished.

"No time for that," Cid snapped. "You gotta get out of here. Some arrogant prick of a lord is gonna bring a whole company of soldiers up here to kill you because he doesn't want it getting out that the princess ran away rather than marry him!"

Vincent said nothing.

Cid's eyes widened. "Don't tell me you're thinking of staying? Because I know you're not gonna kill all those soldiers."

Vincent stared at the stone floor as it there was something deeply fascinating about the etched flagstone pattern.

Cid snarled. He stalked over, reached up, and whacked the dragon on the head - hard. "Don't you even think of doing anything so stupid. Now get your big, dragon-y ass out that door, and go!"

"Go where?"

"Hell if I know!" Cid yelled. "Just not here! You can even come with me if you can't think of anything else!"

Vincent did look faintly interested in this. "I wouldn't fit on a ship, would I?"

Cid looked him over. "Of course you would," he said, even while thinking that as soon as he got to Junon, he was commissioning a bigger ship. At best, it was going to be a tight fit.

  


* * * * *

  


Cid had always figured flying would be a lot of fun. There was nothing more exhilarating than feeling the rush of wind past his face while high in the rigging, the feel of the ship plowing through the waves beneath him, and in his head, flying had been a lot like that.

His dreams of flying had never really included claws wrapped around his chest, clutching him like a vice lest he fall. But all the same, it was an awesome experience. Curse or not, he did envy Vincent his wings, just a little.

"Can you kind of hover a moment?" Cid called out as they neared the ship.

Vincent back-winged, sending sharp gusts of wind into the already-full sails.

"Hey, Shera!" Cid yelled, long-practiced at making himself heard the length of the ship. "Ditch the aft ballast!"

Shera, standing at the wheel, turned. Her eyes widened, but she still snapped out orders briskly. Cid watch the back end of the ship start to rise. "Okay, you can land now."

Vincent settled carefully onto the command deck.

"This is your dragon?" Shera asked.

Not mine, Cid was about to say, but he noticed Vincent didn't seem to object to the designation. "Yep. Vincent, this is Shera, the best first mate there is." He wasn't above laying it on thick, especially when was quite certain Shera would have words for him about this whole ordeal later.

"Hmmph." Shera turned to Vincent. "You'll have to keep that tail of yours tucked out of the way; we can't have the men tripping over it and falling overboard."

Vincent carefully coiled it around his legs. "Yes, ma'am."

"No need to be so formal. Shera will do fine," she said, but she looked pleased all the same.

"Yes, ma- Shera."

"Heh." Cid pulled out a cigar and lit it. It was his last one, but not only was Vincent not going to get skewered any more, he apparently could get along with Shera, and Cid figured that deserved a celebration. They wouldn't be heading for Costa del Sol right away, but he could live with it.

Besides, Junon had the best shipyards. He blew a lazy smoke-ring into the air, and started contemplating names for his new ship.

He wondered what Vincent would think if he called it the Valentine?

  



End file.
